


man i'm tired (of so much wanting)

by zarahjoyce



Series: no rhyme and no reason [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jon's an idiot, Post-Series, The King Beyond the Wall, The Queen in The North, also Jon: the one who loves Sansa so much, no surprise there, speculations, they are both idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 10:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20375335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarahjoyce/pseuds/zarahjoyce
Summary: Perhaps she is pleased to find him already gone from Winterfell, from her life - as is his place.Reading her letter now, noting how impersonal and formal she is, only confirmed his suspicions.Perhapsthisis all he is reduced to. The King Beyond the Wall: someone to transact with, to do business with.Atitle.He's no longer Jon, hercousin.The one who lead an army to fight and kill for her.The one who willinglyassistedher in her quest to have an heir.The one wholovedher, with all of his--





	man i'm tired (of so much wanting)

_Jon,_  
  
_ I write to you now regarding my proposal to set up trading posts further up the north for the benefit of your people - something I already mentioned to you but only in passing._  
  
_ You'll be pleased to know that I have already drawn up more concrete details about this plan. However, I acknowledge that I know little about the ways of the Free Folk, and that what I offer may not necessarily be what they - you - need. It is my regret that I was not able to ask you while you were in Winterfell, though I suppose we were more or less concerned with... other matters._  
  
_ In any case, if you and yours are interested, I propose that a meeting be set up between our parties as inputs from your end will be of utmost importance to ensure the success of this undertaking. I understand that you may be presently burdened by your responsibilities as King Beyond the Wall; if you will agree, then perhaps my people can instead meet with those who can decide for you, in a place where both parties can speak freely. I will leave it up to you where it can be held._  
  
_ Nevertheless, I will appreciate being notified of your decision so that I can make the necessary preparations._  
  
  
_ Ever yours,_  
_ Sansa_  
  
  
Jon reads and rereads the message coming from Winterfell, looking for something, _anything _\- and yet coming up empty, disappointed.   
  
The moment he spots the raven flying in has given him feelings of both agony and hope. Could it be from Winterfell - and its Queen? Could its message be news about their arrangement? Is it Sansa telling him that she is finally with child - _his?_  
  
And with these questions come his own doubts. _Why _should she? They never agreed to doing anything _beyond _their encounters. She certainly _never _committed to inform him of anything. He certainly _never _demanded that she does.  
  
Perhaps she is pleased to find him already gone from Winterfell, from her life - as is his place.  
  
Reading her letter now, noting how impersonal and formal she is, only confirmed his suspicions.  
  
Perhaps _this _is all he is reduced to. The King Beyond the Wall: someone to transact with, to do business with.  
  
A _title_.   
  
He's no longer Jon, her _cousin_. The one who lead an army to fight and kill for her.  
  
The one who willingly _assisted _her in her quest to have an heir.  
  
The one who _loved _her, with all of his--   
  
He slams the letter down the table with far more force than is necessary, willing himself to forget the memories now dancing in his head. But try as he might he can no longer unsee them:  
  
Her head thrown back, back arched, milk-white thighs parted as she moans his name and--   
  
No, _no_. He will not regret leaving. Their arrangement was for a fortnight, and after that--  
  
\--there _is _no after that.  
  
Jon pulls at his mouth, glaring at the letter as though it has personally offended him.  
  
She did not ask him to stay, when he was in Winterfell.  
  
She did not ask him to return, now that he is not.  
  
And now she writes to him about this - about _trading - _in so unaffected and regal a tone that it sets his teeth on edge.   
  
Well, then.  
  
Let them speak about trading - and _nothing _else.  
  
He's in the middle of drafting a short, rather curt reply when Tormund comes in.  
  
"You look like shit," he tells Jon, before nodding at Sansa's letter and adding, "Bad news from the castle?"   
  
"No," Jon replies, looking up at him quickly. "The Queen wants a meeting about setting up trading posts for our people. I'm writing her back to inform her that I agree."  
  
"Ah, so you two'll meet again?"  
  
Jon frowns. "I'm--"  
  
"Thank _fuck!_" Tormund bellows, clapping a hand on his shoulder none too gently. "Maybe during this meeting you can fuck her at least fifteen times. Twenty, if your little pecker's really up to it--"  
  
_"Tormund--" _Jon's voice is low; a warning.  
  
Which the wildling heeds as he raises both hands in front of him. "All I'm saying is that seeing her again will be good for you, boy."  
  
Jon sighs and scratches his brow. "Tormund--"  
  
"You've been moping around like a fucking _idiot _ever since you came back. It's pathetic, really." He claps Jon's shoulder again. "A good fuck will probably cure you of that - if you're lucky."  
  
"The Queen is--" Jon trails off. "Sansa's _more _than just--"  
  
"--a good fuck?"  
  
Jon glares at him. "You are a trusted friend of mine; a brother." He pauses. "But speak of her like that again and I _will _have your head."  
  
Instead of being intimidated or offended, Tormund just shrugs and says, "If she's 'more than that' to you, then how come she's there in her castle and you're here, moping around like a--"  
  
"Have you forgotten that I've been banished?" Jon looks down at his letter, though his thoughts are miles away from what he's written. "After all that I've done I'm not-- I'll _never _be worthy of her."  
  
The wildling raises his brows. "She told you that?"  
  
Jon grimaces. "No."  
  
"Did you ask her what she thinks about you?"  
  
"No!" He rubs his face and says, almost bewilderingly: "_Why _are we even talking about this?"  
  
"Said so yourself: we're brothers." Tormund regards him in all seriousness as he adds, "And I'm telling you, as your brother: you're acting like a fucking, love-sick, pathetic _idiot_."  
  
Despite himself, Jon chuckles. "Thank you. That's _very _helpful of you. If that's all you've come here for--"  
  
"No. I almost forgot--" Tormund takes his seat in front of Jon. "Our man at Winterfell? His report just came in. Says your Queen sent out another round of invitations to the Lords of Storm's End, Highgarden, and Dorne."  
  
For a second, Jon almost forgets how to breathe. "What?"  
  
"Asked them lads to come visit her in her pretty little castle." Tormund leans back, crosses his arms and says, almost snidely, "Thought you'd be interested to know."  
  
_No._  
  
_Sansa, no._  
  
Jon glances at her letter, his mind a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts.  
  
Perhaps that's why it brings no news about her conceiving his child - because she never did.  
  
Perhaps that's why she's propositioning Lords _again - _because the two of them _never _succeeded in their arrangement.  
  
Perhaps she's once again desperate for an heir that she sent out invitations to them, to ask for their _assistance - _to ask for their hands on her skin and their mouths on her--  
  
Jon rises from his chair and stalks towards the door without another word.   
  
"Where're you off to?" Tormund asks - with a sly grin.  
  
Despite knowing that the question's merely a jest, Jon still glances back at him to curtly reply:  
  
"To the Queen in the North."


End file.
